


Deterrent

by DawnsEternalLight



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Accidents, Angst, Bruce Wayne-mentioned - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Plants, Tim Drake-mentioned - Freeform, Trapped, Trope Subversion/Inversion, and because it's me they also get to hug, anti-cuddle pollen, but it's not pollen, it does the same thing though, listen the boys get beat up, plant attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:55:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24646777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: Deterrent:de·ter·rentnouna thing that discourages or is intended to discourage someone from doing something.OrDamian is hurt and Dick literally cannot touch him to help.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Comments: 26
Kudos: 287
Collections: Dick & Damian, everybody loves dick





	Deterrent

**Author's Note:**

> Months ago I saw a post that was probably a long stream of joke suggestions for alternate tropes. I took one seriously.

Gotham University's science building did not look like someone had broken into it. If you didn’t know about the silent alarm flashing away you’d think all was well. As they searched, Dick couldn’t find a broken lock or shattered window. Robin’s examination of the security system didn’t show any tampering. Still, someone or something had tripped the motion sensors inside and alerted Oracle. 

The university was on Nightwing and Robin’s patrol route, so they’d diverted from watching a very boring park to check out the alarm. Dick was hoping for a little action, but not too much. Just a couple drunk frat boys, someone who lost a bet, or a group of college kids who foolishly thought this would be an ‘adventure’. 

In the end, it felt more like _they_ were the ones breaking in. Damian, while connected to the system, unlocked the doors for them and turned off the alarm to keep anyone else from showing up while they investigated. If they caught anyone causing serious trouble they’d call GCPD, if it was little more than a harmless prank, well Dick had a feeling Nightwing and Robin dropping in on them would be scary enough. 

As they crept through the building, Dick kept up a steady stream of quiet chatter. He commented on the building, his aborted college experience, how he hoped Damian might decide to attend one day, and wondered about all the various people they could encounter. 

Damian responded here and there to some of his questions and comments, and made some of his own. It was fun, casual, and just what Dick wanted out of a patrol with his youngest brother. It had been a couple weeks since they’d had a chance to get out together, or get together in general. It always warmed his heart when Dick got to work with Damian. They fell into old routines easily, and honestly Dick just loved being around his little brother. He missed this, more than he’d admit. 

And he knew Damian missed it too, even on their best nights he hadn’t been talkative like this. That had come after Bruce returned, when they’d moved from guardian and child to brothers who also still felt a bit like father and son (it was complicated but Dick wouldn’t have it any other way). Damian opened up in a different way then. Either from experiencing Bruce as Batman, from their time apart or perhaps both. Dick loved it, loved this new openness and freedom his brother was slowly moving into. 

“I have been considering professions.” Damian said, during a lull in the conversation. 

“Oh?” Dick prompted, delighted by the prospect of something other than “Batman” passing the boy’s lips. 

“Yes. I know that with Father’s wealth, and what Mother has set aside for me I do not technically need one. Nonetheless I do not believe I would be good at leading an idle lifestyle.” He said.

They paused to peer into another doorway, the room obviously a student lab with workstations, a chalkboard and even one of those emergency showers Dick had always been tempted to pull the lever of. He found himself resisting the urge again. He considered telling Damian he didn’t have to defend wanting a career, but surely the kid knew that. He knew they’d support whatever he wanted to do, at least Dick hoped he knew that. 

“I have not settled on something yet, though I have plenty of time to do so.” He was hesitating, like he was worried Dick might disapprove. 

Dick briefly wondered if Damian had talked to Bruce about this yet. 

“That’s good, it’s nice to keep your options open,” Dick said, trying a knob. 

This one was locked. He held up a hand, the conversation could be picked up later. Behind the wood a muffled voice was just audible. He nodded in the direction of the door. Damian slipped a set of lock picks into his hand, saving Dick the trouble of finding his own. 

It was a laughably easy lock to pick, clicking open almost without any real attempt of tumbler work. He turned the knob and eased the door open oh so slowly, his ears pricked for the voice suddenly cutting off or a change in mood. From the corner of Dick’s eye he could see Damian doing much the same. 

Dick crept inside, Damian close behind him. The lights in this room were brighter than those in the rest of the building so far, having actually been flipped on. Despite the light, the room felt claustrophobic, crowded with workstations that were piled high with various experiments. The room must have been dedicated to a botany class or something close, because the experiments were almost all of a plant related nature. Some tables were crowded with clippings, leaves stems, and petals. Those were the most contained of the mess. Plants hung from the ceiling, towered so high on tables Dick thought they might topple, and generally crowded the room with such gusto he wondered if the class were trying to turn it into a hedge maze. 

Leaned over a workstation was someone. Dick couldn’t really tell who they were beyond being enrobed in a white coat, Dark hair was pulled up in a messy bun atop their head, and music was playing quietly off a speaker. They were engaged in an experiment, pulling liquid from a container with an eyedropper to deposit in a test tube. 

The two vigilantes crept a bit closer, trying to figure out if this was sabotage or not. As they did so, whatever was being dropped into the tube hissed and popped with a wisp of smoke. The figure surprised both Dick and Damian by cheering, and spinning on their--her-- heel to pump a fist into the air. 

“Yes!” She declared a moment before noticing Nightwing and Robin, now rooted in their own spots a few feet away. 

Her eyes went wide, her mouth dropped open, and she threw the eyedropper at them with a yelp. It missed by a mile, shattering behind them in a crash. 

“Oh.” she said, bug eyed, “Oh, oh crap, I didn’t mean--you startled-- What are you guys doing here? Is there a break in? Is it Two-Face? Am I going to die?!” 

“The only one who’s broken in here is you.” Damian pointed, tone a little too fierce for this flustered student. 

“Me?” the question was a squeak of panic, “I didn’t--I mean I kinda did, but I’m not stealing anything!” 

Dick took a step forward, simply to put himself in the way of Damian in case he decided to make assumptions before actually listening. Dick had a feeling this girl was a student, overworked and worried about a grade, but Damian might assume this was all an act. He wasn’t as impulsive as he used to be, but that didn’t mean Damian never lept before he looked. 

“Why don’t you tell us what you’re doing?” Dick asked, not adding ‘calmly, and not at a pitch resembling Damian’s when he loses at Mario Kart’.

Panic turned to embarrassment, “I’m working on my end of program project. Yes, I’m not supposed to be here, but I thought, well if my I.D. worked to let me in, it couldn’t be that bad right?” She ended the explanation with a shrug. 

“How do we know you are not lying, and instead are attempting to destroy this lab and all of the work within?” Damian pressed. 

She started, eyes widening again, “I--umm. Oh! I can show you. So my project is actually really cool. I’m trying to create an aerosolized deterrent that will help keep like? Protected animals safe from predators. The idea is to use natural repellents to encourage dangerous animals to stay away from those we’re trying to help bounce back. It’s kind of like how citronella scares off mosquitoes, only I’ve selected a number of different plants and have worked to make them more effective and--” 

As she rambled, explaining what she’d picked and why, and the variety of experiments performed on and with the plants, Dick watched Damian’s initial suspicion turn to interest. He’d perked up at the idea of protecting animals, and Dick could see the kid’s gears turning as she described the idea of something temporary but potent and safe.

“And the best part is that it’s totally safe to touch everything else, so it could be sprayed in large doses if need be.” The grad student grabbed a spray bottle off her work station and demonstrated just how safe her product was by spraying it first on herself, then on various plants around her, dancing about the room to coat many of them. 

After a moment she approached Dick and Damian to stop and grin at them. Motioning to the room.

“See, I’m fine, not irritated by the plants, and they’re also--” 

She didn’t get to finish the statement as all around them the plants started to shudder and then exploded in various directions as if they were trying to get away from each other. It sounded a bit like a flock of birds taking flight, if those birds also knocked over every clay pot in a gardening store. 

Dick grabbed the girl, and trusted Damian to stay next to him as they bolted from the room. They were chased by clay and soil dotted with glass and all kinds of liquids as the experiments crowding the room were thrown, bludgeoned, and smashed by plants suddenly struck by the unnatural desire to flee from one another. Dick ducked out of the way as a beaker still somehow full of blue liquid flew at his head and tore down the hallway. 

Behind them plants burst from the small doorway, filling the hall and growing at a rate Dick had only experienced from a very _very_ upset Poison Ivy. He glanced back to find them slamming into walls and digging into the ceiling and floor as well as filling up the hallway in both directions. 

Damian must have as well because he started growling at the poor grad student, “What was in that liquid?!” 

“This is not all my fault.” she squeaked, “Chris was working on an advanced growth project. And umm, Amber had just about finished one that--” they ducked as one as a vine whipped over their heads, “made them stronger.” 

“You have got to be kidding me!” Damian shouted as he pulled in front of Dick and her, moving to try a series of doors.

“Those are offices!” the girl shouted, helpfully, “They’ll be locked, if we can make it to the next intersection there’s a greenhouse to the left.” 

“Right.” Dick mumbled, dragging the girl along with him, “Because what we need is _more_ plants.” 

Something huge caught Dick in the back, slamming into him with enough force his breath was knocked from his lungs and he stumbled forward. The girl yelped, catching Damian’s attention. He stopped his headlong run to turn and face them, his cape whipping back, behind him. 

He ran back to help Dick up, along with the grad student. They were too slow to keep away from the plants fully, and now they swarmed around them, an avalanche of slapping leaves, cutting thorns, and heavy stems. 

Dick dragged both of them back to the ground, and did his best to shield them. Damian, the little brat, wiggled away to pull the girl further under both Dick and himself. If they made it out of this, Dick was going to have a talk with him about self-sacrifice, especially in the middle of what was quickly turning into Night of the Living Plants. 

He tried to ignore the stinging, swatting, feeling of the plants as they battered him, and kept his grip tight on the girl. Something splashed all over them as a thorn dragged it’s way past. Dick lifted his eyes long enough to confirm it wasn’t blood, and spotted that stupid spray bottle being torn up by the thorns, and tumbling down the hallway.

Then he turned his attention to Damian. The boy was further from Dick’s grasp than he’d like after wiggling away, but he was happy to have a grip on the kid’s cape. Damian had his head tucked down, his body hunched tightly to protect his center and the girl partially sheltered under him. 

Dick should have ducked his own head again much sooner, it was his gawking that left him open to a huge bulb as it raced past. It smacked against his temple, knocking his head sideways and sparked dots in his vision. His grip loosened for just a moment on Damian’s cape. It was long enough for Damian’s tiny form to get swept away. 

He looked up, blinking past stars to see Damian be tossed and dragged down the hall, now caught in the unrelenting wave of plants. 

“Robin!” he yelled after his brother. 

There was no more time to wait for a break in the plants, Dick hauled the girl up, under his arm and bolted down the hall after Damian. He ducked and swatted at the green swarming around him and ignored the yelps and cries of the girl in his arms. She sounded more scared than hurt, besides Dick didn’t have time to stop again, not in this mess. 

They got to the spot the hall broke off to the left and right. Dick no longer had any idea where Damian was. He did the only thing he could do and turned in the direction of the greenhouse, praying his baby brother had been swept that way. 

The plants had shattered the door leading from the building to the greenhouse, in a strange way clearing the path for Dick and the grad student to slip out of the building and into Gotham’s crisp night air. 

Together, they pulled to the side, and as far out of the way of the bursting plant life as possible. Dick released the girl at last, settling her onto her feet in the grass. 

“Robin!” Dick yelled, looking around the area around them, “Answer me!” he shouted again. There was no sign of red or yellow beyond petals blooming off flowering plants. 

Dick’s stomach sank as he realized Damian was still inside. He turned to the girl, taking her by her arms, “Listen, I need you to call someone and tell them to send Batman to the school as soon as possible, can you do that?”

She nodded, and fished her phone from her pocket before fumbling to unlock it. Dick typed the number in the phone, pausing just a moment to double check he had it right before tossing it back to her. 

It was a gamble, having her call Oracle, but Batman was on radio silence tonight and the only one who could get through to him was Babs. Dick wasn’t sure if he’d need B to bail them out, but it didn’t hurt to have the call for backup go out now. Especially when that backup was undercover and at least an hour away, all the way across town and on the opposite outskirts of Gotham. 

He didn’t wait for a confirmation or any question from the girl, instead he turned, sprinting again to the building. 

It was harder to push forward as he had to fight the flow of plants that didn’t seem to be stopping their wild explosion. Dick tore at them with batarangs in both hands, shoving his way back to the intersection, and then onward, yelling out for Robin every few seconds. 

If Damian was safe he’d probably use his comm to let Dick know. The silence in his ear was enough to say either the boy was unconscious or still being dragged by the relentless current. He didn’t even consider the other alternative. 

“Robin!” he screamed again, voice cracking as panic started to set in, his feet slipping against a bed of green, his arms tired from cutting through the veritable jungle around him. 

“-wing!” the answer, and it was an _answer,_ was faint, from somewhere in front of Dick. 

He redoubled his efforts to reach Damian, yelling again, “Robin! Call out so I can find you!” 

There were a few beats of silence then, “Here!” came floating towards him again. 

Along with the voice came the sound of something beginning to crack and buckle. Dick took a moment to look around him. What he could see of the ceiling and walls were cracking, seams tearing up around them as plants dug further into a building that was at least sixty years old, if not older. The whole campus was old, and while it was somewhat well kept up with, an old foundation was no match for a hoard of angry plants. 

Dick swore and did his best to move faster. It was hard, the building was utterly covered in plants, the floor slick with them, the walls teeming, and where there was open space, it was like dodging an array of lasers, only they were solid instead of burning. 

Beneath his feet, Dick felt the floor start to buckle, further upsetting his balance. He racked his brain for any memory of a basement in the building. A science building had to have one right? This wasn’t just roots ready to burst up and spear him? 

“Nightwing!” this yell was closer and tinged with fear. 

Dick pushed past a particularly thick curtain of leaves and found his brother, tangled in an array of ivy. He was attempting to cut the ivy away, but the vines kept looping around his wrists and pulling at them, creating a stream of rather colorful curses from the boy. 

“Robin!” he didn’t even try to hide his relief at finding his brother. He was halfway down the hall still, but he was there. 

Around him, the building was groaning urgently, cracks snapped and spread and the white of ceiling tiles rained down on them as Dick ran. 

He wasn’t fast enough. 

One minute, Dick was bolting, the next the floor beneath his feet had dropped away. The world slowed down, and Dick had the insane image of Wile E. Coyote pop into his head as he froze, staring as a flutter of black and yellow disappeared down into its own hole, the last sign of Damian. Then Dick was falling and falling and falling. 

When he came to, it was in darkness. Dick wasn’t sure he was actually awake at first, then the aches and pains of falling a story caught up with him and he groaned. His head was throbbing, like musicians had taken up residence inside and were using his brain as a marimba. The next thing to ache was his chest. He’d landed face down on something hard and round. He fumbled and found a thick root under his chest. He had a feeling in the morning he’d have it’s imprint bruised across his front. 

He moved to push himself up, and learned of his next injury, his left arm was on fire, the pain radiating up and into his shoulder. Careful examination told him it was dislocated. Dick gulped, and ignored it for the moment. He pushed himself up with one hand and stubbornness, feeling broken plant matter slip from his back, and yanking some out of his hair. 

He pulled his legs forward so he could sit, dazed. His left arm cradled across his chest. Dick wasn’t quite sure what had happened, or where he was. His whole body ached, and he remembered the plant's relentless attack from earlier. Gentle pokes and prods across his arms, legs, and face, revealed tears in his uniform and an array of bruises that’d leave him colorful for at least a week. Something wet dropped into his eyes and Dick reached up to find a gash across his forehead. Absently he wiped at the dripping blood. 

He wasn’t sure who would be more of a bear about making him rest when he got home, Bruce or Damian.

Damian. 

_Damian._

“Robin!” he yelled into the darkness, as panic washed over him, “Damian!” he yelled again, forgoing the use of Robin altogether. 

Dick dug around in his suit for some kind of light and yelled Damian’s name again. 

A sob broke the darkness. It wasn’t loud, and cut off halfway through, as if it’s owner remembered they weren’t allowed to make a noise. It both broke Dick’s heart and increased his worry. 

His brother had become more and more vocal about announcing his pain, and rarely held back anymore. When he did retreat back into old habits it was usually because something was terribly wrong. Sometimes a result of drugs, others when Damian was seriously injured. It couldn’t be drugs this time, but Dick hoped that Damian was just confused and disoriented. 

He finally found a flashlight and clicked it on, swinging wildly around the dark to find his brother. He couldn’t even name the room they were in, wasn’t sure if it was a room or rooms broken open, what he did know was that by some miracle they’d ended up in a kind of bubble.

Debris were scattered everywhere, and there were large piles of plants and shattered beams from above, but the concrete holding the floor above the basement had broken in large slabs, one falling perfectly leaned over them creating a semi-roof that kept the rest of the building from landing on them, and an open area. 

Dick almost missed Damian. It was only due to the yellow underside of his cape catching the light that Dick found him. The kid was _buried_ under a pile of plant matter, still tangled in the ivy he’d been caught in earlier, with other torn and dead plants landing on him from the fall. Dick trailed his light back and bit back a gasp, a support beam from the ceiling had landed across Damian’s legs, swallowing them at the calves. 

“Damian!” Dick called.

A groan came as Damian’s response. 

He swore, and scrambled forward. The ‘roof’ was so low he had to crouch, but at least he wasn’t crawling. His brother was in roughly the same place he’d been when they both fell, which had him too far away from Dick to see much detail about his physical state beyond the obvious. Beyond the aborted sob, Damian hadn’t said anything else, and hadn’t tried to move. 

Dick was a few feet away when his stomach started to roll and his headache soared into a migraine so bad his vision went spotty. It was so bad, and came on with such force, he had to stop. He froze, his arm cradled to his chest. 

From Damian’s position he heard quiet whines come up from him, and noticed the boy shift to hold his head. 

It was strange, but Dick was more focused on his own head, blinking and trying to breath through the pain. It wasn’t until Damian’s voice, raspy and laced with pain interrupted him that Dick even realized he'd squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Move.” Damian pleaded, “Back up, _please_.” 

It took his bruised brain a moment to process the words, then because it was Damian asking, he did. Almost without thinking, Dick pushed himself backwards and kept going until his back hit a wall. He was back to square one, but leaning against the wall seemed to be helping his headache. 

It wasn’t helping Damian though and he internally chided himself for listening to the kid. If Damian was in such a state he was refusing to be helped when he was hurt, things had to be bad. And Dick wasn’t letting Damian lay there, trapped under a wooden beam any longer than he had to. 

He gave his head another minute to clear up. When it did, Dick set the flashlight up to kind of light the space, and located another to add to his meager light collection. Once there was a little more illumination he called out to Damian again, to help him gauge the kid’s headspace. 

“Dames?”

“I’m okay.” Damian said, shifting at last. 

“Don’t lie.” 

A groan, not of pain but irritation, came from the other side of the room.

“ _Fine_ ,” he snapped, “I am not okay but I am not dying either. Give me a—” he yelped as he shifted, realizing at last the state of his legs. 

“Okay, I’m getting you out from under there.” Dick shoved himself up from where he was sitting, ignoring the way his shoulder protested any movement, and started in Damian’s direction again. 

Almost as soon as Dick moved, his head began swimming again, but he pushed past it. A headache was nothing compared to making sure Damian wasn’t bleeding out under that beam. 

Dick made it a few feet again before a whimper slipped out of Damian. He winced, and turned his hurried crouch into more of a scurry, grabbing at the concrete above him to help propel him forward. At this point, Dick’s head felt like it might explode. 

“Richard.” Damian’s voice was tiny, and laced with pain. 

“Almost there, Baby Bat.” Dick soothed, blinking at dots in his own vision. 

He wasn’t sure how he was going to manage lifting the beam with his head throbbing like it was, but he needed to. 

“Stop.” Damian said, something urgent in his voice. 

Dick almost didn’t stop, then Damian gasped and made a noise akin to retching. He didn’t throw up, at least not at first. Dick watched as the boy’s hands curled into fists in the ground, as his shoulders raised and lowered with an attempt to get control over himself. 

“Something--” Damian managed, “is wrong.” with that, he threw up all over the ground. 

That only made Dick want to lurch forward again, but Damian seemed to only get worse when he moved forward. So did his head. Something buzzed in there, a thought that held the key to all this, but now Dick’s own stomach was rolling. 

He dropped to the ground and cradled his head, trying to do something beyond think about the pounding. Just beyond him, Damian continued to retch. It sounded so painful Dick was afraid he was going to rupture something. 

After a moment, Damian also started coughing. This made Dick look up and blink at the boy. Damian looked miserable, even in the dim light Dick could see how washed out he was. Something _was_ wrong. All Dick wanted to do was collect Damian in his arms and sooth away whatever was wrong, but this stupid headache was trying it’s best to make Dick turn tail and run. 

He blinked and the thought itching away at the back of his mind burst forth: turn tail and run. The liquid from earlier had splashed all over them. If it had made the plants react as terribly as it had, then of course it would have negative effects on them. It was probably amplifying the array of aches and pains both were feeling in an attempt to make them retreat. 

Dick scooted backwards, then turned and all but ran back to where he’d retreated last time. The relief was almost immediate. His head cleared up to a dull throb, natural for the wound he’d received, and his stomach felt fine again. 

Damian was quiet again too, well quiet for a moment. Then he began to sob, huge wracking noises that wrenched Dick’s heart. 

“It’s okay.” he said, “It’s going to be okay, Dames.”

He had a feeling it was all too much for his brother. Attacked by plants, dragged off into the darkness, dropped into a basement, his legs trapped, and now both of them unable to help the other because they literally could not get within a few feet or feel deathly ill. 

Dick’s own nerves were fraying. He had no idea if the grad student had gotten ahold of Babs or if Bruce was coming. He wasn’t even sure the building above them would hold long enough for help to come. Worse he couldn’t help Damian in any way. His arms ached to hold his brother, to rub his back and smooth out hair that was sticking up at all angles, dirtied with plant matter and building debris. 

“Listen, I can’t go over there right now, but I need you to calm down okay? We’ll figure out a way around this…” Dick was at a momentary loss for the right word, “anti-cuddle stuff.” 

Damian snorted with sudden laughter, “The deterrent.” he said, “A truly harmless substance.” 

“Yeah,” Dick sighed, his arm _hurt_. 

The adrenaline in his system was starting to fade as his blind need and worry for Damian’s safety settled down a bit to something less urgent. With his mind freed to move to other things Dick could focus on the pain of his shoulder being out of place. Before he did anything else he needed to get it in some kind of sling. 

“I think that grad student needs to repeat a couple years of school.” Dick added, groping around for some fabric. They were in the science building, there had to be a lab coat somewhere. “Or start her formula from scratch.” 

Damian sniffled again, “It is not a terrible idea, if highly flawed in its execution.” 

“Hey, you think you can toss your cape over here?” Dick asked, “I knocked my shoulder out of place in the fall and I can’t find anything good for a sling.” 

“You would have room for a proper sling if you would give in and carry a utility belt like the rest of us.” Damian chided, but reached up to unclasp his cape.

He had to shift, pushing himself up and away from the mess on the floor. As he did so the plant matter and debris that had collected on his back started to fall away. The rest slipped off as Damian pulled the cape free. They were lucky it hadn’t caught under the beam or Dick would have had to make do with something less reliable. He rooted around with a hand for a second, finding a fist sized rock and wrapped the cape around it. 

“Incoming!” he said and tossed it towards Dick. 

It landed within reach, and Dick scooped it up, easily untangling the cape. Some finangaling had it formed into a secure sling that he looped his arm through. It wasn’t perfect but at least he didn’t have to worry about it flopping around and hurting worse. 

The task completed, Dick’s attention turned back to Damian, “We need to get that off you, somehow.” 

“Can we not leave it?” Damian whined, “I do not wish to throw up again.”

“And I don’t want you to bleed out or lose circulation.” Dick was firm, “But we need to figure out a better way to get you out than my stomping over there to lift it off your back.”

He lifted one of the flashlights and aimed it back at Damian, following the beam. It was pretty long, maybe he could lift it from the far end?

“Do you think you’ll be okay if I’m quick and come from the side?” he asked. 

Damian shot him a look that would have been venomous if his mask wasn’t on. Dick didn’t hold it against him, he’d be upset too in Damian’s place. 

“Be fast.” he said. 

With permission granted, Dick sucked in a breath and steeled himself for the now familiar increased pain in his head. He bolted forward, gritting his teeth against the pounding and reached the opposite end of the beam in record time. 

Looking down at it, Dick knew this experience was about to really suck. His left arm was useless, which left just his right. He lifted the beam up and crouched further, navigating it up and over his shoulder. Then Dick reached forward, grabbing as far across it as he could and lifted again, his legs and back straining as he did so, raising from his crouch to try and get the opposite end up enough for Damian to be able to escape. If his arm had felt bad earlier, it was positively furious now, throbbing along with his head as the lack of distance between him and Damian further irritated every ache and pain. 

“Okay!” he said, teeth grit. 

Damian dragged himself forward with a cry. It was agonizingly slow. Dick’s hand was sweaty inside his glove, his legs shaking, vision blurring. Then his grip slipped and the beam crashed back down.

“Damian?” he called. 

“I’m fine, made it out.” 

Dick didn’t wait for further confirmation, he retreated quickly until the pain was manageable again, and moved back at a steadier space to the spot he had picked as his ‘camp’ flopping down onto the ground to lean against the wall. 

“How is it?” Dick asked, reaching up to massage his shoulder.

While he’d been moving, Damian had propped himself up against some piled concrete and was shining a light of his own down on his legs. 

“It sucks. The skin is broken where the beam connected, there is swelling, and I do not believe I will be able to put weight on either of them.” Damian’s answer was sharp, and angry. 

He let a hand drop lightly onto a thigh and added in a softer tone, “I am afraid something might be broken.” 

“One problem at a time, get the bleeding stopped first.” Dick directed. 

“Only if you tend to your own wounds. Do not think I missed the fact that you have blood streaming from your head.” 

This prompted Dick to reach up and pat his forehead, it was still bleeding sluggishly. 

They fell into silence as they both tended to their own wounds. Dick tore open a packet of wipes to clean off his head before bandaging it. He re-cataloged the rest of his wounds, scratches and bruises mostly, Dick could no longer tell what was from the plants and what was from the fall. 

When he was done he let his head drop against the stone behind him, and felt pressure in his ear. The comm. He’d forgotten. He fiddled with it, trying to get it to turn on, but of course, something was wrong. He was getting nothing, not a sound or even a fizzle of an attempt at one. 

“Is your comm working?” 

The reply came a few moments later, “No.” 

“That’s okay.” Dick sighed, “I told the grad student to call Babs. She’ll send B and we’ll be out of here in no time.” 

He didn’t really want to wait on Bruce. Even with a bum arm and Damian unable to put a lot of weight on his legs, Dick was sure he could find some way to haul his brother up and to safety if he could just find a way out. Careful not to move so close to Damian it triggered the stupid deterrent, Dick picked his way around their small space, searching for a safe way out. 

He found one spot where air was coming in, cold like Gotham’s crisp air was slipping inside the building. Dick dug at it for a bit, knocking some bits and pieces here and there. He got the hole big enough to squeeze his hand through before he couldn't get anything else to budge. 

Damian had been strangely quiet, making Dick swing the light back around at him to make sure he was okay. When the light hit him, Dick realized why. Damian’s head was lulling, dipping against his chest as bandages dangled in an open palm. 

“Damian, hey kiddo, stay with me okay?” Dick prodded, “Does your head hurt?” 

His brother groaned. 

“Robin.” Dick tried, “Report. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Yes,” Damian responded, “My head hurts, as does everything else.” 

“Specifics?” 

“Nothing serious.” Damian shifted, pushing himself up a bit further, “You?” 

Dick was tired. Everything was aching, and his chest had really started to hurt as he’d explored. His head had shifted back in the direction of “really terrible” and his own stomach churned again. He was trying not to think about his shoulder. 

He retreated back to his spot, his balance a little off, “Not the best.” he admitted, “But we’ll be okay. B’s got to be on his way.” 

Damian hummed. 

They fell into a companionable silence, Dick looking up at Damian every few minutes to be sure he was okay. The kid looked rough. His hair stood up at all ends, making Dick want to brush it back, and run his fingers through it to clear out any loose leaves still stuck there and smooth the mess out. 

That was what truly sucked about all this. Dick couldn’t physically be there for Damian. Even moving close hurt him. A spark of guilt shot through Dick’s chest. It was his fault Damian had been so sick he’d thrown up. His fault the kid looked half dead. If he had realized sooner about the deterrent affecting them he wouldn’t have tried to get close the second time, or even the first. If he’d been thinking at all earlier he would have stopped that girl from spraying it all over the plants. 

Damian shifted, and bit back a pained noise. He reached out to rub at one of his legs. Dick felt like his heart was going to burst. Damian was right there and he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t hold him or rub comforting circles in his back. He couldn’t be a strong pillar to lean on. 

A part of him that he didn’t want to admit to, wanted the comfort Damian would give. His shoulder was all his mind kept going back to, how it throbbed and ached and felt _wrong_. Damian could have helped pop it into place, and then they could be together while they waited. Not separated by an ocean. 

It was lonely. 

Dick was lonely and Damian was _right there_. 

“Richard.” Damian said, as if he were reading Dick’s mind. 

“Yeah? Is something the matter, do you nee--”

“You stopped talking.” Damian sounded exhausted, but worried as well. Just one more thing Dick had put him through. 

Again, all Dick wanted was to hold the kid. At least neither of them would feel quite so alone if they could be close together. 

He shifted a bit, letting a leg fall forward, “I was just thinking, you never finished telling me what career you were considering.” 

His brother took a few moments to respond, “Careers.” he corrected, “I have not decided yet.” 

“Okay, what careers? Farmer? Vet? Wandering pet adopter?” 

“Richard.” the name was a whine, “Do not tease.”

“Sorry.” Dick was, he didn’t want to embarrass Damian, “I do see you doing something with animals though. Maybe you could fix that girl’s project.” 

“Tt. If ever successful it would be an amazing tool to help declining species.” Damian let his leg slip back to the ground to lay next to the other one, “To return to career options, I have considered working with animals. There are a number of jobs one could have, but I had thought about setting up a rescue for them. Many idiots across Gotham find themselves ill prepared for exotic pets, and I’d like to provide them with a safe home.” 

“That sounds great. I think you’d be awesome at it.” 

Damian shrugged, “It is not the only thing I have considered.” he was more hesitant now, like he was worried his other consideration would not be accepted as well. 

“Go on.” Dick kept his voice gentle, open. 

“You are aware I am also an artist.” Damian said, easing into the topic. 

Dick brightened at this. Damian’s art was incredible. The kid had real talent when it came to drawing and painting, even if he rarely showed his work off. 

“Will you be a professional artist then?” 

“Of a sort.” 

Now what did that mean, Dick wondered? Damian did not seem eager to continue but the conversation had been started, and Dick knew his brother wouldn’t abandon it. They both knew Dick would only poke and prod him until he got his answer. 

Damian wasn’t looking at Dick, instead he seemed terribly interested in his palms, “I had considered becoming an architect.” Once he finished he glanced up, shy, “It might seem silly, but one can do much for a city by being an architect. With Father’s resources I can help create safe, beautiful, and affordable buildings.” 

Dick was smiling at him, he couldn’t help it. This kid had such a big heart. None of his considered career paths were the least bit selfish (well maybe the animal one but he would not be doing it only for himself). To use his skills and resources in order to help others was so Damian. How anyone could see anything but this boy’s goodness was beyond Dick. 

“I think it’s a wonderful idea. And no matter what you decide, even if it’s something far removed from what you’ve told me, whatever you pick will be amazing.” 

From his distance, and the lighting, Dick couldn’t see the blush on Damian’s face, but he knew it was there. 

They both did their best to keep each other conscious while they waited on Bruce. Dick continued to press Damian for details on his plans, asking about what inspired him, what he might do in either position, and if he’d shared these ideas with anyone else yet. 

Try as he might, Damian’s answers grew slower and slower. Dick had no way of knowing just how bad Damian’s concussion was, if it was a concussion, or if this was exhaustion, blood loss, or something he couldn’t see. 

It was infuriating. Dick just wanted to know his brother was okay, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t get up and check him. He couldn’t ask Damian. He couldn’t call a doctor. It was so frustrating Dick could cry. 

Of course, then the whole room started to rumble. Maybe not the whole room, but what Dick was leaning on moved. Dust started to rain from the ceiling, then pebbles and other bits and pieces of building. Dick could dodge, but Damian wasn’t moving anymore, out cold and snoring ever so lightly. 

“Damian!” Dick yelled, trying to get the kid’s attention, “Wake up, kiddo!” 

The rumble grew worse, with more and more showering down on them. 

Dick was considering saying screw it and diving over to cover Damian. They’d be sick, but at least he could keep the kid from getting crushed. He’d actually pushed himself up to his bent height and started over to Damian when a crash made him stop. Technically, it wasn’t the crash but the stream of light now filtering in that made him stop.

“Nightwing! Robin!” Bruce’s voice, tight with worry echoed in. 

“Here!” Dick yelled, spinning on his heel, “We’re here! Just don’t knock the whole thing down on us.” 

Batman poked his head inside, and from behind him Dick could hear Tim’s voice. He’d forgotten his brother had been staking out with B. 

"You two okay?” 

“Damian’s not mobile, and this is going to sound really weird, but neither of us can get close to the other.” Dick explained, “If we’re even a couple feet apart we both get really sick, so I hope you brought two cars.” 

Bruce swore, “I’ll haul you out and send Red Robin in for Robin, I don't think I'll be able to fit and I don't want to disturb things any more. We’ll have to borrow a car.” 

Dick wanted to argue, to make them get Damian out first, but that would require moving him past Dick and that just wasn’t possible. He relented and let his dad drop a rope that Dick held tightly to and let himself be hauled up with. 

Above them was a jungle, a mess of plants and shattered plaster, of concrete and smoking somethings. Dick didn’t care to really figure out what all was piled around. It was sufficient to say that the building looked like a bomb had gone off inside, turning it all into outside. 

He hurried across the broken landscape and out to the soft grass beyond. When he was stationary his attention turned right back to where he’d just escaped from and waited. After an eternity, he saw Tim’s head appear, then Damian’s as he was slung over Tim’s back. 

“Careful!” he called, “Don’t jostle his leg, it might be broken!” 

It wasn’t the last advice Dick gave. He was absolutely vibrating with the need to know Damian was going to be fine, and neither Bruce nor Tim seemed to understand. There was no real explaining to them the stress one felt when they couldn’t help. When they were right there, but could do nothing. Couldn’t even hold a hand for comfort. It made him want to scream, even with help there. 

Dick would like to think that things went smoother once he was in the car. He was riding shotgun in a borrowed Ford Focus with Tim, having insisted on Damian being with Bruce. As they followed behind Bruce and Damian, Dick kept his eyes glued to the vehicle. If for any reason the Batmobile dropped out of sight Dick’s heart started to race. 

He kept his eyes on Damian as they entered the cave and were kept on opposite sides. It was an eternity of patching up, explanations, and then showers. Somewhere along the line Damian had woken back up, and all the poking and prodding from his family was doing enough to keep him awake. 

Dick wondered briefly if perhaps some of his agitation was due to whatever that grad student had put in her spray. He almost asked Bruce to test for it, then decided he didn’t care. As long as he could just get to hold Damian soon he’d be fine. 

Bruce wanted to run tests on their blood before letting either of them get close to the other to make sure the deterrent had been totally washed away by water and soap. It was hard to imagine all their suffering was from something on their skin, but Dick dearly hoped it was true. He didn’t think he could stand waiting for Bruce to synthesize an antidote. 

Damian, from what Dick could tell, seemed just as agitated. Their eyes stayed locked on one another most of the time, and he kept fidgeting even though Alfred had instructed him to try and rest. Alfred finally bullied the kid into laying down, but only if he could be turned to face where Dick was sitting. 

As they waited for the results, Bruce came to sit next to Dick on his cot. He turned his attention away from Damian to smile at his dad. 

“Sorry we interrupted your sting operation.” 

Bruce leaned a little closer so his shoulder touched Dick’s good one, “Never be sorry to ask for my help.” 

They sat there for a minute before Bruce spoke up again, his voice low so Damian couldn’t overhear, “You okay, Chum?”

Dick shook his head, “I can’t stop thinking about that basement. It was terrible Bruce. I couldn’t do anything and Damian was hurting. He was stuck and hurting, and _I_ hurt him.” 

Bruce reached out and cupped Dick’s chin, turning his head to face him, “Nonsense. You kept him safe.” 

“There’s a hundred things I could have done better.” 

“Dick.” Bruce said his name so softly, it was somehow a chide and an endearment all the same, “You had no control over the situation, and did as best as you could. Damian’s not going to blame you for any of it.” 

Even with Bruce’s reassurances, Dick’s guilt it still pooled in his stomach. Bruce hadn’t been there when Damian was throwing up, or sobbing from pain or passing out from a concussion Dick now knew was there.

Dick leaned into him then, letting his head drop against Bruce’s shoulder, “I’d hate myself if anything serious happened to him.” 

He felt his dad’s lips brush the top of his head, “Then it’s a good thing he’s only bruised up.” 

And that was the miracle of all miracles. After everything Damian had been through, somehow the kid had come out of it with a concussion, cut and heavily bruised legs, and scrapes to match Dick’s. The kid was resilient, and amazing, and--

“All I want to do is hold him.” Dick said, quietly, “To really know he’s okay. It’s--it physically hurts to not be able to.” 

His dad shifted to tug him closer into a hug, “I know. I’m sorry. Just a little longer and we’ll know it’s safe to try.” 

No sooner had the words left Bruce’s mouth than the computer buzzed. Dick, ignoring Alfred’s pointed glare, got up with Bruce and joined him at the computer. When Bruce pulled the results up, Dick’s feet were already moving. He was halfway to Damian when Bruce said it was okay to do so. 

He slid to a stop by his brother, who was sitting up again. Suddenly shy (even though there was no pain, no agitation, no reason not to) Dick hesitated before taking Damian’s hand in his own. They both sighed in relief at the same time, and Dick let his forehead drop against Damian’s, happy to finally be able to touch again. 

Damian initiated the bear hug, shifting to all but throw himself into Dick’s chest, his arms wrapping tightly around him, head tucked under Dick’s chin. Dick returned the embrace, and scooped Damian into his arms, ignoring the way his shoulder protested the movement. It had been put back in place and _nothing_ was going to keep Dick from holding his boy. 

They shifted slightly so that Dick’s hold on Damian was tighter and the kid wasn’t at risk of dangling from his arms. Damian let one arm go from his tight hug about Dick’s chest to grip at his tee shirt and snuggle closer. 

“Better?” Bruce was behind them, his voice causing Dick to turn. 

Dick nodded, “Yeah.” 

“Much better, Father.” Damian answered. 

Bruce leaned forward to press a kiss to both their heads, and ruffle Damian’s hair, “Good, then upstairs to rest. You both need it.” 

Dick didn’t need further prompting. He was exhausted, he ached, and he knew Damian felt the same way. They took the elevator upstairs and proceeded directly to Dick’s room. Damian didn’t argue or ask why Dick hadn’t dropped him off. He simply slipped out of his brother’s arms to lay down when bid, and snuggled close again when Dick laid down next to him, careful of Dick’s shoulder. Tucked together they fell asleep. 


End file.
